Carded

When I was a baby my favourite toy, I'm told, was a pack of cards. Old, dog-eared playing cards wrapped up in an elastic band. This pack went with me everywhere. It was, in French parlance, my doudou. My comfort blanket. My brother and sister (older, meaner...) tell me they used to bury it in the soil, and I would dig it up and lick it clean. Yuk, but - you know - an early sign of loyalty... or something.

Anyway. I realised not long ago that, between PlayMobil, Lego, iPods and DVDs, my kids are totally clueless about cards. Less so now. They have discovered the joys of tediously addictive games like Patience*. And tonight K tried building card houses. I let her try for a really long time, taunting her with how I used to build them five, six, seven storeys high... One day, when I'm feeling like a nice mum, I will confess the tricks that make that work: build on a carpet, not a table top, and use well worn cards, not brand new shiny slippy ones. (If they've been through the garden/mouth a few times that might just help.)

Today was one of the promised sunny days of the week and it was indeed so. I dug a whole hole for an apple tree... only two to go (once I've figured out the correct planting distance which, according to various internet sources, is between two and seven metres). That apart, it was a day of sorting out certain lodgers in our house. The mice this morning were just taking the mick - so humane traps are out and die hard with a squeaky vengeance is in. I mean come on - I saw one climb up the side of the toaster and drop inside. That's just not on. (And yes, it was very tempting to press the button...) Also one sitting on top of what used to be a door to next door, but is now just a fake door. My first thought was to grab Conor's air pistol and shoot it... My second (acted upon) was to shout filthy Geordie curses at it. Only later, after it had run away from my shouting with its prudish paws over its ears, did I realise with a sigh that it would have made a fun blip.

By the way, K's hands are filthy with ink and other craft substances, rather than soil.

*That's what we called it. Now it's called Solitaire, or as K has dubbed it 'Solitary', as in 'I love Solitary'. Which brings a whole new meaning to the game for me.